


Watching the Hurricane

by ElentariR



Series: Getting Back to Myself [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Babysitting, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Family, Gen, Mulan (1998) References, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 05:57:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7255243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElentariR/pseuds/ElentariR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was something about the name ‘Steven,’ Bucky was convinced, that practically ensured the person would be a trouble-making hurricane with a heart of gold. </p><p>Bucky watches Steven for an entire day. Seven-year old boys are more energetic than he realized.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watching the Hurricane

**Author's Note:**

> Because 1) important step in relationship and 2) the idea of Bucky with a child is just adorable. 
> 
> I've been looking forward to writing this part since I began writing the series.

The loud ringing of his phone woke Bucky. His clock read five am. He groaned and blearily picked up his phone. He shot up in bed when Noelle’s name flashed on the screen. “Noelle? What happened? Are you okay? Is Steven okay?” He was already yanking clothes on, holding the phone to his ear with one hand.

“We’re fine.” Noelle assured. Her low and restrained voice did nothing to soothe Bucky’s fears. “I’m sorry to bother you on a Sunday like this, but I need you to do me a huge favor.”

“Anything.” He meant it.

Bucky finished tying the laces on his boots and tucked a small knife in each. A small pistol was strapped to his ankle and a handgun was stashed in the back waistband of his jeans. It wasn’t the ideal, but it would have to do.

“Can you watch Steven for a few hours?” Noelle’s words came out in a rush. Bucky’s eyes widened. He felt the blood drain from his face. His heart began to hammer in his chest. “Please? Joy just went into labor and Mike’s out of town. They didn’t think the baby would be a month early. I have to be there for her, but...” She took a breath. “Please?” She pleaded. He could hear her desperation.

Words failed Bucky. Noelle’s trust in him had knocked the wind right out of him. That she trusted enough to leave Steven entirely alone with him was unfathomable. It was a precious gift – and he wasn’t worthy by half.

“Yes, of course.” Bucky heard himself saying. “I’ll be right down.”

“Thank you so much, James.” The relief in her voice was nearly palpable. “You’re a lifesaver. I owe you, big time.” Bucky denied that and ended the call. He slipped his phone in his pocket and exited his apartment.

Knocking softly on Noelle’s apartment door, he felt as if he were knocking on the door of the lions den. He hadn’t the faintest idea of what to do with a child. How did Noelle do it on a daily basis? His mind raced. It all seemed to come naturally to her. Of course, _everything_ seemed to come naturally to her. It was hard to ruffle her feathers.

What _did_ she do with Steven? Bucky racked his brain. They went to the park. They played chase and catch, and he had his toys. Noelle talked to Steven a lot. They didn’t watch a lot of television or go to the cinema much. He knew Noelle read to Steven frequently and that he was doing some reading on his own.

Maybe he could do this. Steven just had to survive. Fun was optional. Except Bucky wanted Steven to have a good time – for both Steven’s sake as well as Noelle’s. And his own. Bucky wanted – needed – to prove that he could do this.

Noelle opened the door and ushered him inside. She looked rough and frazzled. Her hair was thrown up into a messy bun. Her t-shirt was a little too big, as was the zip-up hoodie she wore over it. Black jogging pants ensconced her legs.

Steven lay on the couch, bleary eyed. Noelle glanced at Bucky as she fluttered around the apartment, still careful about her splinted broken finger. “He might crash for a nap around noon – he wasn’t sleeping well earlier and he isn’t usually up this early.” She said, voice soft. “I’ve left you a note with more details. Lunch and dinner are in the fridge for you both. Cereal for breakfast. Call or text if you have questions. I’ll try and keep you updated.” She slung her purse over her shoulder. “Oh, and this is a spare apartment key in case you guys go out to Central Park or something. If you go out for very long, he has to wear sun screen. I know it’s November, but he’ll burn. He got my fair and wimpy skin. And he doesn’t need ice cream today, no matter what he tries to sell to you.”

Noelle knelt down beside the couch. She smoothed a lock of stray hair away from Steven’s forehead and pressed a kiss to his skin. “Mommy’s going to be with Aunt Joy now, okay? Listen to Mr. James. Be good. I love you. I’ll be back soon.”

“Love you, too.” Steven mumbled. He lifted his arms to give his mom a half hug before turning his face into the couch’s pillow. She kissed the back of his head and stepped back to Bucky’s side.

“Thank you so much. I really appreciate this. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

Bucky followed Noelle to the door. He touched her arm before he realized what he was doing. He dropped his hand, hoping she didn’t notice the flush in his cheeks. “Are you certain...” Bucky glanced at Steven. _You know who I am._ _You know what I’ve done._ Sure, she had allowed him around Steven for the past few months – and it had been a few since she learned who he truly was. But to leave Steven with him unsupervised – that was different.

Noelle smiled. Then she spoke three words that rendered Bucky speechless.

“I trust you.”

Bucky was certain if he was soaring or plummeting. He could only stare.

Noelle shrugged. “Besides, if I needed anyone to protect Steven and I, you’re the first person I would call.” Her hand lingered on his arm. There was something – _something_ – in her eyes that he couldn’t identify. “I have to go. I’ll keep you updated. You’ll do just fine. Don’t overthink it.”

Noelle slipped out the door, and Bucky was alone with Steven.

The first hour passed peacefully. Steven remained sleeping on the couch while Bucky sat quietly musing in the arm chair. Noelle’s note was clearly written in a hurry, but it was still informative. He had easily located the food that she had, luckily already prepared and she had helpfully identified the locations of all dishes he would need, as well as reheating instructions. She included the rough schedule they usually followed on the weekends. And so, Bucky claimed the arm chair and waited, formulating a strategic plan for the day.

Neither the Army or HYDRA had prepared him for this.

Bucky remembered Rebecca. He had other siblings – two others, a boy and a girl, but he couldn’t remember their names yet. He must have been closer to Rebecca. But times had vastly changed, and he didn’t think Steven played with dolls like Rebecca did. He hoped that he had retained some of his brotherly instincts.

The day started off well. Bucky managed to fix Steven a bowl of cereal and sit him in front of the television for his show like Noelle said he could. Steven seemed calm. And then his show ended. With the conclusion of the episode came a surge of energy that staggered Bucky. It was no wonder Noelle was steady as a rock – she had to be.

Bucky attempted to distract Steven with a movie. They made it as far as Mulan completing boot camp before Steven’s attention flagged and he began jumping around. And it wasn’t even ten o’clock in the morning. Bucky scrambled. He wanted to take Steven to Central Park to play with a ball or _something_ but he didn’t dare leave the apartment. He would lose Steven for certain.

The irony of the situation hit Bucky like a freight train. He – one of the most highly trained and best sniper and assassin who could surveil and conduct reconnaissance better than most, who could complete (nearly) any mission without a hitch, who had survived the most terrible conditions against all odds – was afraid of losing a seven year-old child in Central Park. There was something about the name ‘Steven,’ Bucky was convinced, that practically ensured the person would be a trouble-making hurricane with a heart of gold.

Although Noelle gave Steven a run for his money as sweetest human being alive.

“Let’s build a fort!” Steven exclaimed, jumping up and thrusting his fist in the sky.

“Yeah, sure. We can do that.” Bucky was relieved.

Steven clearly had a scenario in mind, though he wasn’t sharing it with Bucky. The boy’s face was scrunched up in concentration, his tongue captured between his teeth and poking out from his lips. Bucky carefully supervised Steven, allowing him to complete what he could. Bucky helped when needed. He found himself smiling slightly at Steven’s stubborn independence and determination.

Bucky and Steven stood outside their creation, proudly admiring their work. The fort – constructed from blankets, sheets, chairs, and the back of the couch – was quite the sight. Pillows were strewn on the floor inside. It would be a tight fit for Bucky inside, but he could sit in there.

Steven grinned up at Bucky and raised his hand, palm facing the older man. Bucky tentatively answered Steven’s request for a high-five. “You did a good job.” Bucky praised the boy quietly.

“ _We_ did good. We’re a team!”

Bucky smiled and nodded. “We did good.”

The fort kept Steven entertained for two hours. He made up a variety of scenarios that required Bucky’s participation. Sometimes they were defending the spaceship from alien attack. Sometimes Bucky was the alien invasion. Other times, the Huns were invading China, and the fort was the Great Wall. Bucky was, of course, often the Huns. It was, in all, an odd situation for Bucky, but one that was oddly rewarding and not traumatic. Steven was not a skilled tactician and had no concept of real battle – for which Bucky was grateful. He hoped Steven never had to gain the skills that he had. He hoped Steven retained the innocence that his own generation never had.

Bucky heated up chicken nuggets and green beans for their lunch. A slice of French bread on the side completed the meal. Steven chattered about his favorite television shows to Bucky while they ate at the table, thoroughly capturing Bucky’s attention with his animated and intricate explanations.

Just as Noelle had predicted, Steven asked for ice cream with wide, innocent eyes and a winning smile. Bucky had nearly agreed, but obeyed Noelle’s instructions. Steven’s expression was crestfallen even as he tried to bargain for just one scoop. The kid had spunk. Bucky’s stern ‘no’ settled the matter. He feared Noelle more than he feared a pouting child.

Per Noelle’s instructions, Steven sat on the couch with a book and read for half an hour. He handed Bucky a book and requested that he read it to him. Bucky hesitantly agreed and settled on the couch. Bucky’s eyes widened, utterly flummoxed, when Steven curled into his left side, almost sitting on Bucky’s lap. He tentatively lifted his left arm to allow Steven to snuggle closer and lightly draped his arm on the back of the couch.

Steven poked Bucky’s side. He peered up at Bucky. “You’re not very soft.”

Bucky blinked.

“Mom is soft.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say. Although Steven did not seem to require a response because he urged Bucky to start reading the book. It was a chapter book from a series Noelle indicated Steven usually enjoyed. Bucky didn’t understand the logic behind a treehouse with magical abilities, but Steven didn’t seem to mind.

“Do the voices!” Steven insisted.

Bucky cleared his throat. “Yeah, sure. I can do that.” Whatever ‘doing the voices’ meant. He learned that Steven meant he had to imitate the different characters.

Steven declared that Bucky was passable, but that his mom did it better.

Bucky read a few chapters before Steven began to flag and then fall asleep altogether. Noelle’s note had not prepared him for that. Her rough schedule made no mention of a nap, although Noelle had mentioned he might fall asleep before she left. Uncertain of what to do, Bucky gently carried Steven to his room and laid him on his bed, though it lacked bed linens of any kind except for the fitted sheet. The blankets and pillows were key components of the partially deconstructed fort. He draped a blanket that he snagged from the fort over Steven.

With Steven sleeping, Bucky flopped down on the couch on his back and checked his phone for text messages. Noelle had texted him periodically through the day, though cell phone coverage in the hospital was spotty and her responsibilities to her sister claimed much of her time. Her last text – just before Steven began his quiet reading time – informed him that Joy was greatly dilated, whatever that meant, and the intensive birthing process was about to begin. Bucky sent her a quick update on Steven and their day. He closed his eyes briefly.

Could he? Yes. Bucky turned the television on, keeping the volume as low as possible, and picked up watching Mulan where they had left off earlier. The movie was terribly enjoyable. He wasn’t able to finish it, though he came close to doing so, before Steven stumbled out of his room rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Moving to the kitchen, Bucky prepared Steven’s snack – apple pieces dipped in peanut butter. It was scarfed. Bucky had been at the sink washing Noelle’s dishes when he heard Steven scamper out of his chair and down the hall. Quickly drying his hands, Bucky trailed after him. “We’re going to play with legos!” Steven cheered. He dragged the tub from his room into the living room. “Mom says I have to.” Bucky assumed he was referring to playing with the toys in the living room.

Legos were fascinating toys, he learned. They were incredibly durable and versatile. Steven was clearly the expert. Bucky joined Steven sitting cross-legged on the floor. He tentatively began to press two red rectangles together and then pulled them apart. Steven watched him experiment for a moment before offering helpful suggestions. Together, they created a fort, outlying village, and military force. “Bad men are coming, Mr. James, and we have to protect our village!” Steven explained.

Bucky had learned to accept any wild premise that Steven concocted. His imagination was extensive. “How long until they attack?” Steven pressed his lips together, his eyebrows drawn low – his thinking expression.

“Five minutes.” Steven decided.

“What’s our strategy?”

It was grandiose and impractical. Bucky gently offered a realistic alternative and a compromise was struck. At least only half the men would have died, rather than the whole village and defending force under the adopted strategy. And Steven was still young – there was still time for his critical thinking to evolve.

At a surprising length, Steven grew bored with their elaborate Lego creation. “Let’s smash it!”

That actually did sound like fun. “What are we gonna smash it with?”

Steven thought for a moment. His face lit up with inspiration. He ran to his room and re-emerged with two foam swords. He threw one at Bucky, who made a valiant attempt to catch it. He lunged forward, the edge of the sword grazing his fingers. He lost his balance and fell on his chest with a grunt. Steven giggled and ‘helped’ Bucky to his feet. Bucky had to smile slightly.

“So you want to smash it with the swords? Will it work?”

Steven shrugged. The effectiveness of his chosen weapon was irrelevant. And the swords did prove to be largely ineffective. Chunks did break away, but the fort and village were in no way ‘smashed.’ Bucky stopped Steven from stomping on them, instead suggesting they throw them at the side of the couch. Steven had a good arm. Bucky was formulating plans to teach him baseball before he realized he was doing it.

Throwing the legos at the hard surface proved to be more effective, though they still deconstructed some parts by hand as they placed them back in the bucket. Bucky didn’t remember much of his own childhood, but he knew that he wasn’t as tidy with his things. He suspected that Noelle played a part, both with her genetics and parenting. Steven was a well-behaved – if energetic – child.

“Are you gonna eat Thanksgiving with us?” Steven asked as they cleaned up the Legos.

Bucky remembered Thanksgiving. There was food and family – the two most important things in life. “I don’t know.” He hadn’t been invited.

“Mom says we’re having it here this year. Grandma and Grandpa and Aunt Joy and Uncle Mike are supposed to come. Mom said she was gonna invite you, too, ‘cause you don’t have any family to celebrate it with.” Steven dropped his Lego into the bucket and paused. He looked at Bucky with a frown. “Why don’t you have any family?”

Steven’s question was innocent, but the pain in Bucky’s chest was real. His real family was long dead. Noelle and Steven were the closest thing he had to family.

“Did they die? My dad died. I was really little.” Steven frowned and gave a kind of shrug. “I don’t really remember him. Just little bits. Do you remember your family?”

Bucky swallowed hard. “Yes.” It came out as a whisper. Steven nodded gravely. “Let’s eat and then finish Mulan.” The conversation had taken an uncomfortable turn.

Steven jumped up with a grin. “Yeah!”

They did finish the movie, but it became abundantly clear to Bucky that Steven had energy that required expending. And so Bucky found himself teaching Steven how to properly do push-ups. Many jumping jacks were also completed – Bucky was surprised Noelle’s persnickety downstairs neighbor hadn’t come up to complain.

Later, a foam sword was thrust into Bucky’s hand and he stood facing Steven down. It appeared they were going to have a sword fight that would range over the living room. Bucky reminded himself that Steven was only seven years old and that he could not treat a seven year old like he would a grown adult. Steven was fragile. So was foam. Bucky was cautious.

But in the end, it was Steven’s own feet that caused him to fall and hit his head. They had thrown down their swords after Steven had felled the Mighty Mr. James following a lengthy duel. Steven had taken off running to the bathroom, barreling around the corner of the couch – his Lego box sitting directly in his path. Still crowing over his triumph, Steven hadn’t seen the obstacle and tripped headlong over it. His head connected with the tile and all blood drained from Bucky’s face.

Noelle was going to kill him. There was no way he would leave the apartment alive if she returned to find Steven injured.

Steven had immediately begun to cry, though he tried to stifle the tears. Bucky was at his side in an instant, inspecting the damage. There was no blood, but a knot was already forming under the reddened skin. Bucky gingerly felt the area and checked Steven’s eyes for dilation.

“I’m getting you an ice pack.” Bucky scooped Steven up in his left arm and carried him into the kitchen. He was not letting Steven out of his sight again – not on his watch.

He rummaged through the freezer and produced a bag of peas. He pressed the bag to Steven’s forehead. It was easier than creating his own bag of ice. Realizing the bag was probably too cold, he wrapped the bag in a dish cloth before returning it to Steven.

Steven held the bag to his head and burrowed into Bucky’s neck and side. “Let’s sit down. You’re gonna be alright, kid.” Bucky maneuvered themselves onto the ground, Steven sitting in his lap. Steven, who Bucky noticed was a very tactile child, seemed to meld into Bucky. He continued to whimper.

Just as Bucky thought that they might be in the clear, a key slid into the apartment door. Noelle swung the door open and stepped into the apartment with a weary sigh. She froze when she saw Bucky sitting on the floor, Steven in his lap with a bag of peas to his forehead. “Noelle...” She appeared exhausted.

He had hoped that he would acquit himself better, but it seemed he was doomed to failure.

Noelle glanced at his immediate surroundings and relaxed. “Did he trip over his Legos again?”

Bucky blinked.

She knelt down and slowly pried the bag of peas from Steven. She smiled gently at her son, who crawled into her arms. “Let me see your forehead, sweetie.” She told him softly. Steven dutifully allowed her to inspect it. “You’ve got a pretty good goose-egg, but you’re alright. Mr. James took good care of you, didn’t he?”

Noelle gave Bucky an encouraging smile.

“Let’s get you ready for bed now, okay?” Noelle led Steven down the hall, holding his hand.

Bucky stood in the entryway, dreading Noelle’s return. She appeared strangely calm about Steven’s injury. Perhaps she was merely trying to prevent Steven from thinking that he was hurt worse than he was. Perhaps she was masking her true feelings. Although Noelle was not known for masking her feelings. She didn’t advertise them and didn’t wear them on her sleeves, but she didn’t hide them.

Bucky decided to make himself useful and headed into the kitchen. He carefully prepared a peanut butter, honey, and cinnamon sandwich just the way Noelle liked it. He doubted she remembered to take care of herself while she cared for her sister. He carried the plate into the living room and set it on the coffee table.

Noelle emerged a several minutes later. She placed the back of her hand to her forehead and sank into the couch. She tossed the peas on the other end. “Everyone is healthy.” Noelle said. Fatigue dripped from every word. “Baby girl – Avery Michelle. Seven pounds, fourteen ounces, and beautiful.”

What was the proper response? Bucky didn’t know. “That’s good.”

“How was Steven?”

The corners of Bucky’s lips tipped downwards slightly. “You’re...not mad about his injury?”

Noelle snorted. “He’s a boy. He’s always injured.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Noelle nodded. “Don’t feel bad. Once, Robert tossed him into the air a little too hard and Steven’s head hit the ceiling. Steven got his dad’s hard head. He’ll be fine.”

A great weight lifted from Bucky’s shoulders, though he still felt a little guilty. “He is very energetic.” Bucky said after a moment. “He’s a good kid, though.”

Despite her fatigue, she gave him the proudest smile he had ever seen. “Today went well, then?” Bucky nodded. It could have gone much worse. “Good. I’m glad.”

“I should let you get some food and sleep.” Noelle looked like she could use it.

She winced. “I look that rough, huh.”

“You look beautiful. You always do.”

Both froze. Neither knew how to proceed.

Bucky hadn't meant to voice the thought. He didn't know where it came from and he didn't know how to handle it.

“I’m glad your sister and her baby are doing well.” Bucky moved towards the door and opened it. He looked over his shoulder, her eyes following his to the sandwich. She blinked and her mouth fell openly slightly. “Don’t forget to take care of yourself.”

He couldn’t look at her expression. He was already out of the door.

 


End file.
